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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26258791">I want you in my room - let's spend the night together - from now until forever</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodloser/pseuds/goodloser'>goodloser</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Cyberverse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crushes, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Multi, Post-Canon, Road Trips, Spoilers, Teasing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:01:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,943</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26258791</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodloser/pseuds/goodloser</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Astrotrain absolutely insists Dead End his new little friend Perceptor join them on a road trip to nowhere apparent. And, uh... maybe it turns out they all kind of have crushes on each other? Whoops.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Astrotrain/Dead End, Astrotrain/Dead End/Perceptor, Dead End/Perceptor (Transformers)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Boom boom boom boom</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>(vengaboys are back in town)</p><p>OT3!! Love em</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Megatron (the real Megatron)’s near death experience had caused him to come to the absurdity of the wall splitting Cybertron between Autobots and Decepticons — no need for factions, with the war over, and such a divide was disgustingly reminiscent of the old systems both of them fought so hard to dismantle. And so, a few cycles ago, the wall had been brought down and neutrality washed across the nations.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So of course, Dead End had been spending more and more time at Maccadam’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not helping things along was Astrotrain’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>unbearable</span>
  </em>
  <span> presence in hassling the two of them to pack for their roadtrip. With Perceptor’s optics finally fixed, he was able to pack his own things (and was that regret in the pit of Dead End’s tanks, that he couldn’t help?) quicker and more prepared than ever. That just left Dead End to finish his things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come </span>
  <em>
    <span>on.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Astrotrain’s pink optic peered in through one of the windows of Dead End’s flat, obscuring the sky beyond.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dead End didn’t reply, his back </span>
  <em>
    <span>purposefully</span>
  </em>
  <span> turned to him as he rummaged through datapads and games and snacks to bring with them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you’re not gonna need that. What is that? A board game for anticons?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dead End snorted. He didn’t turn around, but he did pause in holding the cyberchess set. “Sorry they don’t come in </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> size.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow. I’m hurt. That’s kinda racist, actually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Astrotrain’s promise of keeping The Other One in the Unspace ended as quickly as it’d came, because he’d manage to find a cache to stuff the carcass he’d crushed as best he could between his thumbs. With any luck, The Other One would spend enough time in there he wouldn’t be able to break out before being unmade. And since it’d already been a while, it seemed the plan had worked. Astrotrain came right back to Kaon — much to Dead End’s chagrin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was an earth-moving </span>
  <em>
    <span>thud</span>
  </em>
  <span> as Astrotrain lowered himself to the ground, knees drawn up to him to prevent blocking the space for the other Kaonian citizens to move around him. Like this, Dead End noticed he could actually see out his window for once. Although there was still a sliver of red crest visible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me guess. You don’t have any me-sized snacks either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irritably, Dead End threw his copy of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cyrellian Poetry</span>
  </em>
  <span> across his room. It clattered to the floor. “No. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sorry</span>
  </em>
  <span> but I don’t. Go raid a sweets shop or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Astrotrain tilted his head with a great creak and Dead End had the distinct impression he was pouting. “Optimus Prime said the Petrahexian Delight would take a few more days to cool, but I wanna leave ASAP.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are we coming on this stupid trip anyway?” ‘We’ including Dead End and Perceptor, of course.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’ll be fun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, you need some fresh air. You spend all your time cooped up in there or in that bar of yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s it to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When there was a pause, Dead End glanced over his shoulder to see Astrotrain staring at him with an unreadable expression. But soon enough, the giant tapped too-loudly on the glass. “So you </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> want to go on a fun roadtrip with that guy you like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dead End fumbled. He dropped the bag of crisps. “Wh — what are you talking about?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The microscope. You know who I mean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I. I do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> like him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure you do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Nice try, Astrotrain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm? I’m wrong?” Astrotrain tilted his head again. He almost looked like a lost puppy… if puppies were sixty feet tall, that was. “So I </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> see you making gooey optics at him every moment you can, and I </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> see you walking around with that dreamy look on your face, and I </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> hear you mumble ‘Perceptor’ in your slee—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop watching me sleep.” Dead End walked over to the window, opened it, and smacked his broken copy of an old sparkling’s storypad straight in the middle of his dumb stupid face. “Find a warehouse to recharge in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After no short amount of teasing later, Dead End had finally picked out enough supplies for their week out. He kept his gun, of course, but it felt weird not also bringing his favourite assortment of bombs and detonators. Going on holiday almost cemented that the war was over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Odd.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dead End drove by himself to Maccadam’s; Astrotrain could shuttle there, sure, but he might as well reserve fuel and it was only a short walk for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And wash this at the end of every shift…” Perceptor was instructing Arcee on running the bar, but he straightened up and turned around when Dead End entered, lugging his travel-pack on his back. “Hello, Dead End.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess you’re not ready to go,” Dead End smirked. As usual, talking to him came a lot easier than it should do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me? Unprepared? You don’t say.” Perceptor exchanged a few more words with Arcee before disappearing back into the bar to grab his own luggage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Astrotrain’s waiting outside.” Usually, the shuttletrain would be more comfortable at the station or port, but without a vehicular alt Perceptor kind of had no way of getting there, so they’d arrange to meet here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Upon the pair walking outside, Astrotrain scooped them up in his hands with as much delicacy as he could muster. He headed to the Iaconian outskirts. Dead End did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> appreciate the apparently-knowing leer he gave him. In due time, Astrotrain pushed them inside his chest canopy as his plates shifted over and under himself and he changed into his train mode.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It might’ve been a bit of a jolt at first, but once settled, Dead End was sorting their things and Perceptor was looking out one of the windows with his finger to his chin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He drawled, “No tracks needed, hm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Astrotrain’s voice was a low rumble from one of the speakers in the corner of the room. “What kind of train do you take me for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, (or probably, on purpose) that was a speaker Dead End was standing directly under. It startled him so badly he dropped his pack and it jumped open, spilling datapads everywhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did that on purpose!” Dead End growled. He punched a fist into the wall behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Dead End, what?” There was a barely-noticeable hint of mocking to Perceptor’s voice. “I was merely conversing with our travel companion.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh Primus. Dead End resisted the urge to wipe his forehead with frustration. These two together were turning out to be a </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrible </span>
  </em>
  <span>combination.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. If you wanna be my lover - you gotta get with my friends</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Oh Dead End.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>For all his frustrations, Dead End had to admit Astrotrain made for a smooth ride as the cab of his mode rustled almost imperceptibly even though they were rolling through the less-than-stable terrain of the Chromium Heights. Through the window, he sat next to Perceptor (they’d pushed the chairs together for… reasons) and watched as the chunky, uneven rocks of the pale hills shimmered and moved past them as if a great hand itself was pulling Cybertron backward into infinity and all the three of them could do was stay in place and in awe. Astrotrain had </span>
  <em>
    <span>insisted</span>
  </em>
  <span> they spend most of their time in the cab, because conversations were more fun face-to-face, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yeah right. He just wanted to see the faces Dead End would make when harrassed. For all his hopelessness and doomsaying, Astrotrain actually managed to get a real rise out of the grump — an amusing parallel to the way Perceptor seemed to soothe him (is what Perceptor would surely comment with an odd, haughty voice, as if asserting his superiority over the three of them.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, there.” Perceptor was pointing off into the distance at an especially peaking hill. What looked like rough-hewn cubes were set around its top in a pattern Dead End couldn’t make out. “That’s an old henge. Definitely pre-war. I believe it is about nine million years old. The Cult of Solus believed the Sun would refract off its cubes and call to her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dead End hummed in response. He had no particular interest in things like landmarks or ancient history (unless it was a good philosophy book of course), but it was interesting to hear Perceptor drop his impressive banks of knowledge regardless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Astrotrain’s holographic head also turned to look. It seemed kind of pointless when obviously all alt modes were dotted with external sensors to pick out faraway objects just like that, but whatever, the guy obviously had a flair for bringing attention to himself. “Huh. Neat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suspect this isn’t what you wished to show us, but it’s a fine find regardless.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Where are we going anyway?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He huffed, “It’s a secret.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To the Pits, he better not be taking them to Megatron’s latest stupid scheme for world domination. Dead End had loved tearing it up on the battlefield as much as the next Con — maybe even a little </span>
  <em>
    <span>more, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he only really felt alive when putting his gun to another guy’s forehead or even that one time he betrayed the Autobots in the Quintesson Ship — but sheesh, Megatron had to admit he’d lost already. If some mythical Megatron-but-worse figure came around with plans for </span>
  <em>
    <span>universal</span>
  </em>
  <span> domination, sure, maybe then Dead End would jump in both fists flying, but until then he was content to a peaceful Cybertron.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Well, he wouldn’t say he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>content. </span>
  </em>
  <span>More like passively accepting of it. Rebuilding was kind of boring, after all. Peace put him on edge. When was Optimus or Megatron going to build a concert hall he could start a mosh pit in?)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatcha thinking about?” Clearly, driving around here wasn’t as fun as it seemed. Which wasn’t at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dead End deadpanned, “Murder.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh?” asked Perceptor. “What a coincidence. Me too. You know, if I weren’t so needed in the scientific sphere, I would be a sensational sniper.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure thing.” Dead End leant over and tapped his helm, on the cheek guard. It was a tinny sound. “Before or after your optics got blown out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perceptor didn’t react other than tilting his scope into some-other direction to examine something else. “I’d blow anyone out of the water before, but being forced to rely on other senses has only improved my sighting ability.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoa. Well, I’ve always been more of a bombs guy.” Although Dead End could easily picture it; Perceptor stood proudly atop a ship or something; not even needing to steady himself in a prone; focusing through the scope of a high-calibre as if he needed it and taking out a target five cyberunits away. ‘Cool’ was an odd word to describe such an admittedly nerdy guy, but it kind of was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I’m impressive, I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blanched. Was his expression that obvious?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With the flicker of smugness in his eyes (and at what, exactly?) Astrotrain said, “Come on, </span>
  <em>
    <span>weapons?</span>
  </em>
  <span> That’s so complicated. Just step on ‘em and that’ll get the job done.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh wait.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perceptor drummed his fingers along his armrest. He leant back in his seat. “Tell me, Astrotrain, have you done much fighting in your life?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Astrotrain managed to prevent the glare from creeping onto his face, although Dead End could hear it through the gravel in his voice. “More than </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’ll</span>
  </em>
  <span> ever know, buddy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quite. I think you’ll find you can say the same for most of us. After all, you weren’t here for much of the war, were you? So you might not quite understand what it was like for us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An incredibly uncomfortable silence prevailed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Being who he was, Dead End usually preferred silence. Loved it, in fact; it was a welcoming blanket when his factionmates were getting far too rowdy in a dingy bar or a subdued part of the battlefield. Now, it was a frighteningly smothering force in Astrotrain’s tiny cab he found he couldn’t take much more of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice sounded nothing like it belonged to him; rather, some foreign entity speaking for him. “You’ve never really read Keytzsche have you? He’s my favourite author, so—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right. I haven’t. Go one.” Astrotrain seemed as grateful for the reaction as he was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perceptor didn’t seem to notice the very blatant shift in tone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dead End was waving his arms almost in a perfectly lunatic impression of Wildrider describing his latest impossible hallucination. “He believes — I mean, wrote — nothing matters, so life is the same as dying — being dead, yanno?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually, you’ll find Keytzche is much more of an anti-realist than anything else,” Perceptor piped up suddenly. “He both viewed morality as untenable and his own views as deleterious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“H… huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Essentially, both believing and </span>
  <em>
    <span>nonbelieving</span>
  </em>
  <span> will harm Cybertronians.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“R… Right.” Just like Perceptor to school Dead End on his own reading. “I guess? It’s almost the same thing, though. If it’s harmful to believe, and it’s harmful to disbelieve, then what’s the point in either…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Astrotrain sighed in the mostly-joking way he tended to use with Dead End. “You’re so depressing sometimes. You know that? You ever have fun before?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How the frag do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> have fun, Spacebus?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“High-grade.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow. And </span>
  <em>
    <span>how</span>
  </em>
  <span> are you meant to take high-grade while driving?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Astrotrain grinned. A lid flipped up on the control panel to the left of the main console.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Perceptor’s voice remained almost freakishly composed after having oh-so-many sips. He was backlit in dark purple by Cybertron’s night sky and its Variant Lakes. True to their name, the Lakes were a collection of pools which eroded constantly, leading to a continuous stream of evolving colours as new material bubbled to the surface of the lakes and popped and evaporated. The entire spectrum of honey glanced off his back. He seemed oblivious to this — instead, he shook his flagon of dark-brewed energon and toasted the ceiling. “Never have I ever been a Decepticon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Astrotrain was scowling with a grin poorly hidden behind it even as Dead End poured half a cube into his opened fuel lid. “That’s just cheatin’. And you </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Percy.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse my manners, did I stutter?” Perceptor mumbled to no one and lifted his cube to his lips anyway. He had his feet pushing lightly onto Astrotrain’s console deck (extremely dangerous in Dead End’s opinion) to tip his chair back in a manner that’d seem rebellious on anyone but him. Just what kind of academy brat did alcohol turn Percy into?!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dead End took a healthy sup of his own high-grade. “I forgot who’s next.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Astrotrain stuck his tongue out. His holo-avatar flickered dangerously, as if it was almost on the verge of disappearing. “Never have I ever lied playing this sparkling-aft game.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perceptor chugged off the rest of his cup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both Dead End and Astrotrain gaped at him, although it was the former who spoke. “Perceptor?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Percy turned to them with a definite, </span>
  <em>
    <span>noticeable</span>
  </em>
  <span> spin to his gyros. “I am merely keeping it interesting for you two best friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he winked into the air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dead End and Astrotrain exchanged looks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Best friends? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Best friends?!</span>
  </em>
  <span> With </span>
  <em>
    <span>that guy?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Perceptor simply shrugged his tall shoulders and moved wavily to collect a new flagonful of high-percentage energon. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>fell</span>
  </em>
  <span> rather than </span>
  <em>
    <span>sat</span>
  </em>
  <span> into his chair once he was ready, and then inclined a nod toward Dead End.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dead End’s face did a weird three-point-turn — first surprise, then a glare, then an old mixture of guilt and some other emotion. He stared at his glitteringly pink cube of high-grade and his voice had resumed its usual lack of muster. “Aight. Well, never have I ever… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not</span>
  </em>
  <span> got arrested.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a double negative and I refuse it on those grammatical conditions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Frag you,” Dead End bristled momentarily. “Never have I ever lied about my past.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perceptor dignified him with an impassive stare he had </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span> idea what kind of way to interpret. Astrotrain had one brow raised, although he apparently couldn’t hold off long enough to avoid criticising him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> haven’t?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fraggit it. He’d drank too much high-grade, done too many of these Primus-damned </span>
  <em>
    <span>have-you-nevers.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He downed the rest of his cube and shakily climbed up onto his chair, thrusting both hands onto his hips. He might be kind of impressive, if he wasn’t small for a car </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> visibly wobbling. He chose to direct his optics out through Astrotrain’s front window to avoid looking at anyone’s eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Once — or not once, it wasn’t that long ago, I don’t know, whatever, alright? — I was part of this combiner team. Megatron made it. Lord — Megatron? Lord? Whatever, right? There was four of us. Five. Forgot me. Motormaster, whoa. My leader. He was a real big gay. Guy. I guess — Megatron’s size, or. Whatever. Big truck.” Now, he was moving his hands as if he could shape out the kind of distinct shape Motormaster was. “Breakdown. My friend. He was always paranoid, total weirdo, always thought he’d messed up. I don’t know why? Who cares if you messed up? Then Wildrider, I don’t know, he could be alright when he wanted but my polar opposite, you get it? You do? He was always carin’ about stuff and I just didn’t. Total nonsense, not like Keytzsche, some real nonsense about ‘Cons not being there. Then there was Drag Strip. Whoa. I don’t mean ‘then’ like that. He wasn’t last or anything. He’d put himself before Motormaster if he could. He wasn’t a bad guy. We were just </span>
  <em>
    <span>complete</span>
  </em>
  <span> opposites, more than me and ‘Rider. I was all doom and gloom while he was all… </span>
  <em>
    <span>flash and splash,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Astrotrain and Perceptor had shared another uncomfortable raised brow ridge before Astrotrain had ducked Dead End’s chair out from underneath him and Perceptor had leapt forward to grab the disgruntled bot in his arms. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>we love disaster loves</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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